


Spare the Dollar!

by selfregret



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: 17th Century, Heist, Money, Multi, Pirates, Violence, mayhaps there's a love triangle, slight hongi, slight sanseong, slight woosan, slight yungi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 08:09:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18545758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfregret/pseuds/selfregret
Summary: in which Song Mingi asks the heretic to spare a dollar.





	Spare the Dollar!

Song Mingi was a mother’s boy. A small-town boy. He didn’t get his hands dirty no matter how good the cash was-- but that was considered a weakness in a place like this. He considered himself an ‘honest’ man, an honest man who did honest work. His momma prides herself on the fact that Mingi would never get into business he can’t work himself out of. But Mingi was a man who had hit rock bottom, and greed was his lever.

Mingi looks across the port now, a little street with rust-coloured shops to the left and the broad sea to the right, the mid-day sun breathing gold across the foam crashing against the pier. Yunho had chosen Rum Harbour (of all places!) to meet up and discuss plans, and just so happened that Rum Harbour was home to some of the city’s most ruthless gangs in the city. They were known as ‘street rats’ here, and Mingi’s stomach turned just thinking about it. His momma was worried when she heard where he was going--

 _“But I trust little Yunho would protect you,”_ she had said with a small smile.

 _No Yunho to protect me here, momma,_ he thought sadly as he scuffed his feet awkwardly in the sand of the path, kicking dust and pebbles into the air. He’s overreacting, he knows he is. Yunho assured him that no one would dare jump him in broad daylight with spectators around. And they wouldn’t. He was dressed in leather scraps and burnt trousers, the brass buckles on his shoes chipped and faded. No one would want to jump a boy with pauper’s shame written all over his face.

Mingi shoved a hand into his pocket and pulls out a rolled wad of mint leaves, scrunching it up and popping it into his mouth. Mint was a natural stimulant that the whole city lived on, especially since coffee was at an all-time shortage. Just the smell of it alone cleared his head, and he inhaled strongly through his nose, breathing in mint and sea. It wasn’t far to the rundown pub that Yunho had organized their meet-up in, but Mingi was getting more and more anxious by the second. He forced himself to look out to the sea. Rum Harbour was named after the beautiful gold tint of the sea, as well as the town’s main export, rum. Mingi was walking near the wooden fence overlooking the small pier. Beyond the wood bobbed fishing boats tied at the helm, worn paint slick with barnacle and algae. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad.

He could hear Yunho jeering at him now: _“God, are you a baby? The ‘ruthless gangs’ are just rumours. You’ve never even laid eyes on a member before.”_

Yunho, forever the voice of reason. Mingi smiled breathlessly and turned back to the path. Better to get in and back out before his anxiety spikes up again, he thought bitterly, scraping the souls of his feet against the ground. Now that he thinks about it, the street is near deserted– all there were was a merchant leaning against a market stall picking at his nails, a mother holding a red-cheeked child by the wrist with a basket in her hand and Mingi, radiating awkwardness and uncertainty from his skin.

But then he saw the man in the distance.

A foot away from the cafe, he stood with his feet apart, shoulders squared and bundled within an abundance of fur. He faced a shop window, head slightly tilted, as if he was silently surveying the people inside. It may have been the light playing tricks on him, but he swore he could see his lips moving. Mingi froze. One of them. It had to be. He stood out like a sore thumb, and only a step away from the meeting place. _Just his luck!_ He didn’t know what to do. He heard tales about people like him– people in the gangs– that would break your leg if you walked out of step, gouge your eye out with the wrong glance, slit your throat if you spoke out of turn.

 _Cyful, help me,_ he prayed as he exhaled, closing his eyes momentarily. Mingi saw him turn on his heel slowly, his head rise. The man was slender, and every step he took seemed cautious, calculating, as if he was treading across a tightrope. Strands of hair from his nape danced in the soft breeze coming in from the east. When he grew closer, he saw his eyes were lined with black, eyebrow cocked. Everything about him seemed beautiful, ethereal. _Demon_ , Mingi thought with a horrified expression.

They were at a metre length from each other. The man had caught sight of him. Mingi’s last prayer to Cyful died on his lips as he watched him. Time seemed to slow as the man made eye contact with him. Mingi felt the air escape his lungs as the man gave him a beautiful smile. He saw the glint of gold in his mouth before he turned his head. And he was gone, down the street, out of Rum Harbour.

Mingi inhaled sharply, nearly choking on the mint leaves in his mouth, relief flooding his body. God, that was close. He was sure that man was a street rat. Mingi spat out the leaves into a barrel by the meeting place, wiping his bottom lip. He shouldn’t think about that now. He opened the wooden door to the pub, already forgetting about the mysterious man that he had just seen.

+

“Another one?” Mingi groaned as Yunho finally arrived, newspaper tucked into the pocket of his jacket. He couldn’t see the headline from here, but Yunho seldom read the newspaper, let alone brought it along with him unless it was something serious. And ‘something serious’ in his books meant--

“Another one. Another shipment.” Yunho cursed under his breath, slamming the newspaper onto the table. Mingi had already chugged down a pint of rum, and the news wasn’t helping his headache. Yunho slung his long legs over the seat next to him. The pub was full, even at midday, so whatever business they would exchange would be drowned out by the sound of drunken clamours and whoops. He thanked Yunho for choosing somewhere like this as he raised two fingers in the air, the bartender catching the sign and running to the beer taps.

“They just disappear! It’s not as if they’re being gunned down. They leave the harbour and they’re never spotted again,” Yunho sighs, closing his eyes, rubbing his temples. The bartender from before sauntered to their table and gave them both a pint from a brass plate. Yunho dropped two gold coins on the plate as the bartender disappeared into the crowd.

“Maybe it’s…” Mingi’s mind drifts to the man from before, “...an inside job?”

“We wouldn’t know for sure, unless the ships arise again,” Yunho sighs, chugging the alcohol back. The foam formed a thin line over his lip as he slams the mug down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Yunho was what people in his neighbourhood called ‘ _rich_ ’, but in reality, Yunho had enough money to get by. His business relied on shipments coming in from the harbours, though he’d never really go into the technicalities with Mingi. All he knew was that whenever these ships disappeared, his business floundered.

Yunho flashed him a tired smile. “Anyway, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Yunnie. My folks are fine. The bakery’s getting by.” Mingi hesitated, before leaning over the table. “Y’know how you always said that the street rats don’t come by here?”

“They don’t,” Yunho smiled, “But do continue.”

“I spotted one.”

Yunho laughed then, a hearty laugh from the bottom of his stomach. Mingi felt his heart sink as Yunho shook his head, still chuckling. “God, Mingi, you’re really antsy today, huh? Just ‘cos you spotted an honest man lookin’ a little sketchy, it don’t mean they’re a street rat!”

“That’s the thing,” Mingi looked down at his nails, feeling a little sheepish, “I don’t think he _was_ an honest man. He was dressed in all of these furs. I, uh, think he had a mullet as well? His eyes were rimmed with black, like he was a cat… and I think he had a--”

“Gold tooth?” Yunho interrupted. Mingi looked up, and Yunho wasn’t smiling.

“...I think so. Why?”

Yunho was silent for a second.

“It was one of ‘em, right?” Mingi accused, and Yunho shook his head.

“...No. No, it’s worse.” Yunho looked around, but the pub was as hearty as ever. He leaned in, voice quiet and cautious, “I think you saw Hongjoong the Heretic.”

“Heretic?” Mingi felt the blood drain from his face. “As in… a witch?”

“Not a witch, he’s just… _mad_. He’s not a street rat. He’s a lone criminal, but he has his links. Apparently he has dirt on everyone. There’s rumours he’s linked to the shipments disappearing… because there’s been sightings of him at different harbours.” Yunho leaned back, and Mingi could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“By Cyful,” Mingi whispered, gnawing on his bottom lip, “I ran into a heretic.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Yunho suddenly asked, eyes alight. Mingi flinched, shaking his head.

“No. No, h-he didn’t. He just…” he played the encounter again in his head, watched the small nod, the grin, the gold in his mouth… “...smiled. He just smiled at me.”

“Promise me, Mingi.” His best friend said, grabbing his wrist. “ _Promise_ me you won’t get involved with him.”

Mingi looked at him, and nodded. “I promise.”

But promises break easily, almost as easily as Yunho’s fingers slipped from his wrist.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first au on ao3 skjdf give me strong criticisms pls


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